Author Archives: Sophia

I sat in a garden today I sat and watched the world go on around me, without me my own stories become a mess of watercolor just after the brush has touched it

tip toe, peering over outcast azaleas – rain still dripping from their sunset bodies forecast skies call for anxious and tired eyes, awake at 2:00 am

In the middle of my office squalor, I have this large whiteboard with pictures of my family and 2 Corinthians 4 scrawled all over it in big black letters. I think I did that a couple months ago after reading the passage for, what it felt like, the first time and feeling like Paul wroteContinue reading “clay and china”

I don’t want to be a cumulative mess of nostalgia, thinking yesterday was better than today, and wishing that tomorrow held the same promises that I once sought.  Tomorrow was gone before I knew it, and with it, a whole meadow of what I hoped.  Is it enough to lay those hopes down again andContinue reading “a blackened and devoted faith”

you are both strength and gentleness like roaring fire and falling snow you are my rock, and you are my hiding place you train my hands for war, and you deliver me from the battle

There was one quiet place, growing up. Actually two, but one was the bathroom, and I don’t think that should count. If you walked down the muddied path, around the great oak and through the sea of farm equipment, you would find the great green pine that stood guarding our property.

Oh soul, what great things the Lord has done for you.  Be glad – rejoice in His favor, His immeasurable kindness and mercy.   He has redeemed you from hands that were too strong for you. He has given you a new song – a shout of joy.  He has promised to turn your mourning intoContinue reading “soliloquy on Jeremiah 31”

Miss you.  Miss your wise, wiry, smooth fingers touching and moving down embroidered fabric, opening your mouth to talk about distant lands and people I’ve never met.  You looked at me with such seriousness; I almost could have laughed but didn’t dare. 

Dear Miss Lavender, If you could have only felt the crackle of yellow and orange and red cornflakes beneath your feet as I did today. The skies have turned icy silver and blue and the mornings come with that subtle nip of cold that autumn brings. Last week was the beginning of autumn, as formalContinue reading “Dear Miss Lavender, Ltr. 3”

Slowly, slowly Hesitant and small Fumbling with keys and mouths to be pried open Small hearts and big eyes Perfumed shoulders that make your leather jacket smell like peonies